


Little Things

by SpaceAusten (Mama_Hibou)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben is a hermit, F/M, Language of Flowers, Neighbors, Rey is a Contractor, Social Anxiety, Tropes, hope that foot doesn't get caught in your mouth, pregnancy mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mama_Hibou/pseuds/SpaceAusten
Summary: Ben is a freelance graphic designer who works out of his basement and prefers to not get involved with anyone.Rey is an amateur general contractor helping her friends flip the house across the street.Rey tries to do something nice for her new neighbour. Ben sees it as a trap.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [punkeraa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkeraa/gifts).



 

 

The chair was back.

 

Why it was there, on Ben’s porch, wasn’t processing in his sleep-deprived mind as he sipped his coffee and stared out his dining room window. Nor was he contemplating HOW it got there - considering that it had been picked up, he thought, on Tuesday with the rest of the garbage. Still, the familiar groove of the vinyl seat, the slightly crooked pneumatic lever on the side, the worn out patch on the backrest told him that it was most definitely his drafting chair.

 

The drafting chair he’d thrown against his studio floor after a sudden power outage a week ago.

 

The coffee was cool enough now that he could take a long drink.

 

He’d been working for hours that day. There was a deadline for one of his contracts coming up and the client had made another round of changes to their promotional material at the last minute. The colours were wrong, the font needed to be changed, the geometric theme was too ‘pointy’.  _ Could you add a unicorn in there somewhere? Unicorns are so in right now. _

 

Eight hours in, five hours until the deadline, and the thunderstorm outside knocked out power to Ben’s street. He’d been too damn focussed on tweaking the vector assets that he’d lost track of the last time he saved his work and found the entire project gone by the time the power came back on. His drafting chair, being the least expensive piece of equipment to replace, took the full brunt of his frustration.

 

In the end the client chose the original design he’d produced for them the week before. Ben put his abused chair out on the curb and had been standing at his work desk since, while he awaited the next sale on office furniture.

 

His coffee cup drained, he set it aside and sought out his slippers.

 

Wrestling the chair back into the studio was more a matter of angling it properly and not so much an issue of weight. Ben grunted as he shifted and turned the seat in order to get it down the twisted basement stairs of his post-WWII house. He thought, with some ironic amusement, that he might end up breaking it again in the process but in the end the chair, and Ben himself, made it into the studio unscathed.

 

He set the chair down in front of his computer set-up, where it had been stationed for the last three years. Nothing was amiss. He gave it an experimental kick - not too hard. The chair shifted slightly on its plastic castors but didn’t fall apart.

 

Ben sat down gingerly, in case it was going to be his not insubstantial bodyweight that did it in. The chair gave a little  _ creak _ like it always had but held up just fine. He leaned back slightly, placing his large hands over the armrests. Well… He didn’t have to go shopping for a new chair at least. 

His fingers brushed over something papery on the underside of the left arm. Ben tugged at it, feeling a strip of masking tape tear away. It was a business card. A very amature looking business card. Not even reading the name of the business, he noted the poorly rendered graphic in the corner and the very obvious scratched out address at the bottom, with a hastily handwritten correction in red pen.   
  
He turned it over. The back was blank. Probably to save money on printing costs. Flipping it back again he scanned the card for a name.   
  
**REYNOVATIONS -** **_restorations, detailing and repairs_ ** ****__  
**_Furniture and Small Engines_ **   
**_Rey Jacobs_ **   
  
Ben snorted derisively. There was a phone number and an e-mail address. No mention of social media. The scratched out address was one a few towns over, but the one written in red ink was familiar. It was for the tiny house across the street. Ben glanced up at the wall and stared at nothing in particular. That house had been vacant for as long as he’d been living here. The place was in rough shape on the outside. He had long ago noted the state of the roof and the overgrown weeds.

 

Thinking back, Ben wasn’t sure if he’d even noticed the FOR SALE sign coming down.

 

He really should be getting out more.

 

Ben glanced at the big digital clock hung over the studio door. It was well after ten in the morning. His new neighbour was probably up and about. As much as Ben balked at the idea, he knew he should go across the street and greet them - at least pay them for fixing his chair. He hated the notion of getting caught in a web of unending neighbourly favours. Best to give them some money and have that be the end of it. That was why they’d taped the business card to the armrest, wasn’t it? Unconventional, but a clever marketing tactic even if it meant that they’d scavenged his garbage.

 

He went back upstairs to his room and changed out of his pajama pants, throwing on loose-fitting jeans, a tee shirt and a hoodie. It wasn’t freezing out but it was the end of September and the autumn cold was just starting to creep in.

 

He trekked across the street, wad of bills in his back pocket, up the stone walkway of the raised bungalow and stopped at the screen door. He could hear the radio faintly through the walls of the house. He looked around the doorframe for a bell, finding that there may have been one installed once but the button had been disconnected and removed, leaving only the plastic mounting bracket and screws behind.   
  
Ben knocked.   
  
There was a muffled shout from inside and the radio went silent. A moment passed, then the inner door opened. Ben had been staring down at the ground as he waited so the first thing he noticed were the worn work-boots and beige coveralls of the occupant. He startled slightly when he glanced up at the young woman behind the screen door.

 

“Hello!” she greeted cheerfully. “Can I help you?”

 

She was an absolute mess. A respirator mask hung haphazardly around her neck and she’d pushed a pair of safety glasses up onto her head. The red imprint left behind from glasses framed her hazel eyes. Drywall dust coated her hair, making it difficult to tell what colour it was. Brown? There was a smear of white mud on her cheek. At some point she must have been overheated and had pulled off the top of her coveralls and tied the arms around her waist like a belt. Her forearms were covered in dust as well.

 

“...You’re Rey?” He managed to choke out. He realized, then, that this might be the first time he’s actually spoken out loud in several days.

 

She smiled. The mud on her cheek cracked a little. “Yes! Oh! Here-” she pulled off her work gloves and pushed the screen door open. Ben had to step to the side to avoid getting nailed in the face with it. She stuck her right hand out for him to shake, which he did somewhat awkwardly. Her hand was warm and a little sweaty and she smelled like plaster and vinyl. “I’m Rey Jacobs. I suppose you’re my neighbour?”   
  
He nodded, letting his hand drop to his side. “Ben Solo.”   
  
_ A+ human interaction, Solo. Well done. _

 

“Lovely to meet you, Ben. I’d invite you in, but the place is literally torn apart at the moment-”

 

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the small wad of bills, effectively interrupting whatever explanation Rey was about to offer. He held them out for her. “Here, for the chair.”

 

She blinked in confusion and didn’t move to take the money. “Excuse me?”

 

“The chair.” He repeated. This was quickly getting uncomfortable.  _ Please, just take the money so I can go back to work and forget you exist _ . “You did a good job, so here.”   
  
She glanced down at the money and back at Ben’s face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that.” She protested. Her cheeks flushed a little. “I was just-”

 

Before he could stop himself Ben sighed in exasperation. Her terrible business card came to mind. She was young and admittedly cute, and probably completely inexperienced with being self-employed. She would absolutely be taken advantage of by her clients. She probably undercharged for her work too, if at all.

 

“You can’t do favours for people like that,” he said bullishly. “Your time and your skills have value, and you have to establish what they’re worth both to you and to your customers, otherwise you’re not going to get anywhere and your business will suffer as a result. If a client isn’t willing to pay what you tell them your time is worth, then you cut your losses.”   
  
Her bemused smile shifted into a look of bewilderment.   
  
“They’re all under the impression that you need their business to survive, which is obviously true, but if you don’t establish firm boundaries they will cheat you any way they can. A good client will respect that. A bad client will continue to argue.”   
  
_ Fuck, please stop! _

  
She was leaning against her door now, dust-coated arms crossed over her chest. Ben could feel his heart begin to race, noticing the way her brow was furrowed. He thrust the bills toward her with some force. “Here.” 

 

Finally, FINALLY she took the money.

 

She shoved it into the pocket of her coveralls without counting it. Ben allowed himself to feel a moment of relief until she frowned at him. “Thanks.”

 

The inner door slammed shut in his face.

  
  
  


**_  
_ ** Rey stomped back to the bathroom and threw the radio back on, turning the volume up much higher than necessary. Her face was burning, as was the crumpled up money in her pocket. Had… Had she just gotten lectured on business practice by a guy in a hoodie?

 

She shoved her goggles back onto her face and tightened her respirator mask back on over her nose and mouth. She would banish him from her mind. She needed to focus on sanding the drywall mud down so she could prime and get the bathroom walls ready to paint. Once the painting was done she’d be able to finally shower at home instead of driving out to the YMCA.   
  


But trying to push him out of her mind was proving to be too much of a struggle as she scraped at the walls with a fine-grit block. Three songs played through on her radio without her notice as she considered what he’d said in that brief, bizzare lecture of his. It angered her that he’d been able to peg her so easily within only a few seconds of meeting her. She DID have a tendency to let people talk her pricing down. She struggled all the time, thinking that she’d done alright as long as she could pay her bills. And maybe,  _ maybe _ they would give her a good referral.

 

It was a frustrating way to live.

 

_ “Your time and skills have value…” _

 

It was hard to take a deep breath while wearing a respirator.

 

Hearing that from a stranger had affected her far more than it had when Rose said it. It was something you would expect your best friend to tell you all the time, ringing somewhat hollow each time knowing that they were only trying to cheer you up. But for the first time those words were sinking in and it stung.

 

Who did he think he was! Rey snorted, envisioning his dishevelled dark hair and obvious three-day beard. He looked like a cross between a web developer and the guy from The Big Lebowski. “Some business expert…” she said to herself with no comforting effect.

 

That night, having vacuumed up all of the mud dust, mopped the tile floor and applied the first coat of primer to the walls, Rey curled up on her twin mattress with a microwaved dinner and texted her progress report to Poe. He responded with a smiley emoji several minutes later.

 

“I guess that’s my quota of human contact for today.” she muttered to the bare walls of the old house.

 

Was it really the lecture that was bothering her so much? 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben traps himself in his house in order to avoid Rey. 
> 
> Rey stands up for herself.
> 
> Ben has a moment of clarity. Sort of.
> 
> Rey has a change of heart.

 

Ideally Ben would’ve gone back to his hermit-like existence and forgotten about his new neighbour. Unfortunately she seemed bound and determined to be working outdoors as much as possible during the day. He would go out to get the mail and she would be digging a flower bed. He’d get home from the grocery store and she’d be in the garage with the door wide open, music blasting.

 

Once or twice he thought she might wave to him when they accidentally caught each other’s eyes. But she would pretend not to notice him and carry on with her work. In a way that was better for Ben.

 

It only bothered him a little bit.

 

He was under no delusions that he hadn’t offended her within moments of meeting her. He’d been replaying that disastrous introduction in his mind daily. He took comfort in thinking that she probably wasn’t going to be a permanent fixture. It was likely that she was getting ready to flip the house. She was in the renovations business after all.

 

_Rey-novations._ It really was a silly name.

 

Aside from the girl-next-door cold shoulder, things were looking up for Ben. It was the end of the big pre-holiday rush of contracts he dealt with year after year. He only had a few more campaign posters to submit to his clients, then he could relax for a few months until he needed to start working on Valentine’s promos.

 

It was late October. Fall winds rustled the trees and sent fresh cascades of dried leaves down en masse nearly every day. Ben’s house didn’t have much of a yard, but the surrounding birch and oak trees managed to completely carpet the grass and driveway so much that it was necessary for him go out and rake once every few days. He tried to do it in the evenings, as he’d noticed that Rey tended to retreat indoors when the sun went down.

 

He was pulling on his gloves and stepping out the door when a pick-up truck pulled up to the bungalow and parked on the street. Ben glanced at the driver, a middle-aged man with doughy eyes and red baseball cap, as the cab door opened. Another man, younger and skinny emerged from the passenger side and came around to open up the tailgate. Ben went to his shed and grabbed his rake as Rey popped her head out of the door to greet them.

 

An uneasiness stirred in his stomach.

 

He set to work scraping the fallen leaves off the asphalt of his driveway, pulling them in large damp clumps toward the bottom of his porch steps. Rey was leading the larger man toward her garage. Ben kept his head down but his entire awareness was trained on the house across the street. What was she thinking?! She shouldn’t have people coming to her home - especially living alone like she was.

 

He heard the garage door roll open. Ben glanced aside and saw a rusty looking snowblower next to Rey’s workbench. The man in the red hat muttered something he couldn’t decipher. Rey responded in a voice that was lower in pitch than he remembered from their very short introduction weeks before. She caught his eye, just for a moment, and her expression hardened as she turned to the man again.

 

“- that’s ridiculous! There’s no way you should be charging that much.” The man blustered indignantly.  
  
“That was what we agreed on.” She replied, with equivalent firmness. They were too far to tell for certain but Ben was sure he saw her eyes flash.

 

“You didn’t even clean it up! Look at this mess!”

 

“You didn’t ask me to clean it, just to fix the engine. The engine is fixed. It works perfectly, just as it did in the video I sent your friend over there.”

 

Ben tightened his grip on the rake.

 

“Well I’m not paying you for a half-assed job.”

 

He was about to approach them when Rey turned and looked straight at him. She gave a slight shake of her head, telling him to stay where he was. Her expression and posture immobilized him. It was only an instant, but the effect on him was not fleeting.

  


* * *

  


Rey dug her phone out of her pocket and pulled up her image gallery app. “I screencapped all of our conversations, Mr. Plutt, including the one where I broke down my labour costs.” She turned the phone toward him.

 

Plutt squinted at the screen and scoffed. “That looks shopped. Teedo!” the smaller man grunted back in reply. He had pulled a hand truck over and was starting to load the snowblower onto it. “You read that thing about those photoshopping scams, right?” Plutt sneered at Rey. “You aren’t gonna get much work if you overcharge like that, sweetheart.”

 

The threat in his voice wasn’t lost on Rey - the implication that he’d see to it that she developed a poor reputation in the community. He could probably do it too. She was still a newcomer here, and he had connections everywhere. Plutt was vile.

 

Part of Rey wanted give in. That’s how she’d managed to survive so far, wasn’t it? _“Cut your losses.”_ a deep voice echoed in her mind.

 

Her neighbour was still standing in his driveway. She could sense him, even though he seemed to be trying to remain inconspicuous. He had his back to them now, going about his raking. Rey felt an odd rush of determination. Perhaps it was her pride wanting to show Ben the Business Expert how wrong he was about her. Perhaps it was a feeling of security just knowing that he was there.

 

She wasn’t going to get pushed around by the likes of Plutt.

 

“My time is valuable, Mr. Plutt.” she spoke evenly and clearly, sounding far more authoritative than she felt. “And right now you’re wasting it. I suggest you fulfill your end of our agreement, unless you’d like me to start billing you for a consultation. There’s a one-hour minimum.”

 

Plutt’s eyes narrowed at her. Rey stood firm. He silently chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then let out a chuckle. “Alright fine. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, girlie.” He produced a wallet and counted out the exact change for Rey. “Don’t expect people to be banging your door down with work.”

 

Rey took the money and fought to keep her voice level. “I could do far worse, Mr. Plutt, than to not have the benefit of _your_ recommendation.”

 

Plutt huffed, but with that settled he and Teedo finished loading the snow blower onto their truck and drove off. Rey was shaking from anger and adrenaline as she watched them leave. But she had done it! And so what if Plutt told all of his associates to stay away from her - she didn’t want to do business with them anyway!  
  
As she headed back inside she caught a glimpse of her neighbour again. He had finished his raking at some point near the end of her meeting with Plutt and was facing her side of the street. And unless she was completely mistaken she was sure she saw him smile.

 

* * *

  
  


Ben rushed inside shortly after he heard Rey’s door close following the encounter in the driveway. He was feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long time - not since design school.

 

He _felt_ like drawing.

 

He hurried down the stairs to his studio and threw open the filing cabinet drawer where he kept his sketchbook and pencils, mostly neglected since he worked almost exclusively on his computer now. He dug out the pad and found a mostly sharp HB pencil and set them up on his old drafting table. The lines came out short and rough at first, as he carved the shapes into being on paper, but he quickly found the angle he wanted and worked like he was fulfilling some sort of pre-programmed instruction.

 

An angular jaw, a slightly upturned nose, a brow that could be interpreted as either haughty or quizzical. Next came a long slender neck, a sloped shoulder. Narrowed eyes. Slightly parted lips. Ben lost track of time as he drew, placing lines, erasing them, then redrawing them.

 

Finally, with adding a wave of curled hair at the nape of the sketch’s neck, Ben paused and looked - really looked at the portrait on the table in front of him.

 

Rey.

 

He swallowed back a sudden rush of… something. She was looking back at him, authoritative, determined, impressive. It was how he’d seen her outside. He was surprised, pleased, at hearing her stand up for herself. His opinion of her shifting drastically in only a few minutes.

 

He couldn’t help but feel inspired. Yes, inspired.  
  
He wanted to congratulate her, but that… that would be weird wouldn’t it? They’d only been living across from each other for what… a month? - the entirety of which they’d spent ignoring each other’s existence. He stared down at his drawing, the inspiration suddenly turning to panic. Was he being a creep?   
  
Shit, this was creepy. Drawing a portrait of your semi-hostile neighbour, making her look elegant and… alluring… _fuck_ . Ben flipped his sketch pad closed again, to keep Rey’s grey-toned eyes from judging him further. “Crap. Crap crap crap crap…”   
  
He stood and paced the length of his studio three times, tugging at his hair, before he settled into his drafting chair again. He still had Rey’s business card sitting out on his desk, next to the cup where he kept his cintiq pens. Why he hadn’t thrown it out yet was still a mystery to him. It wasn’t like he _needed_ it.

 

**Reynovations**   
  
Ben wheeled his chair back over to his drafting table, back to his sketch pad, having just had an idea. He flipped the pad open again, near the back to avoid looking at his most recent sketch by accident, and picked up his pencil. A few minutes later, satisfied with is work, he carefully tore the page out. He glanced at the time. It wasn’t too late in the evening yet. And this wouldn’t take long.

 

* * *

  


After the day she’d had, the last thing Rey was expecting, or wanted, was for there to be someone knocking at her door after dark. She had just settled herself down after a shower and prepared a cup of tea. She was dressed in her favourite pajamas. The interruption was most unwelcome. She was tempted to ignore the knock until she saw who it was through her kitchen window.

 

Her neighbour.

 

What could he possibly want? Rey felt something tighten in her chest. Was it going to be another lecture? Well, if she could stand up to a creep like Plutt she could certainly deal with the likes of Ben Arrogance-Incarnate Solo.

 

She braced herself for a confrontation when she opened her front door, but her resolve sputtered out at the look on Ben’s face as he greeted her out on the porch. He smirked a little, almost shyly at her like he was surprised to see her. “Uh- hey.”

 

“Hey.” she said back.  
  
“Um…” He averted his eyes, looking momentarily confused. She noticed a piece of paper pinched between his middle and index fingers as he brought the hand up to present it to her. “Uh here… I was thinking about y- your business...”

 

Rey took the page and turned it over. She let out a little gasp. It was a cartoon caricature of a girl in coveralls with a giant head, fairy wings and what could only be described as a magic wrench. It was adorable and completely unexpected. Ben was the last person she’d peg as a cartoonist.  
  
It was also the first thing anyone had made for her. Ever. Her cheeks began to heat despite the cold evening air. “This is-”

 

Ben was scratching at the back of his head, pointedly looking everywhere but at her. “It’s just a doodle but um… I’m actually a graphic artist. Your business card was bothering me.” He visibly winced. Rey, surprisingly, didn’t feel offended. “I mean that it could use some redesigning and I- shit…” he huffed and Rey had to stop herself from giggling.

 

What even was this? He looked so uncomfortable. She almost felt bad for him.

 

“Here, I can pay-”

 

“No! That’s not… It’s just a doodle,” he repeated. He looked up at her then, his pale face flushed. “I mean, if you wanted to use it for your marketing then you can… I just… I didn’t actually thank you for before. So thank you.”

  
Rey grinned despite herself. “Alright. Thank you too.”

  
Ben nodded and quickly turned away, leaving Rey standing alone in her doorway wondering if maybe she had been completely wrong in her judgement of her neighbour. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff

 

 

Things thawed between them after that. Now Rey greeted him when they crossed paths. Ben felt less inclined to avoid leaving his house during the day. It was a nice change.

 

October passed into November. With Ben’s workload easing off, he opted to spend less time in his studio and more time outside. He was sketching again. He’d find himself going to a nearby park some days, or heading out downtown to draw different landscapes. When he filled one sketchbook, he bought a new one. Working with paper and pencil was vastly more relaxing than drawing on the cintiq.

 

On a few occasions, Rey would burst out of her house and invite herself to tag along, claiming that something was drying or curing and she needed to get some fresh air. He didn’t object. He also didn’t draw during those outings, content just to listen to Rey talk about the progress on the reno, news articles she’d read or gush over every dog they passed on the sidewalk.

 

During the course of these walks he pointed out various places of interest to her - the grocery store, the library, the gas station… None of it actually interesting but she made a point of showing him that she was invested in learning everything she could about the area. He filed that away in his mind, thinking that he might look up some local history to share with her next time they were out together.

 

He was walking home from the park one afternoon when he saw Rey standing on the curb in front of her house, arms crossed and looking rather puzzled. He slowed down his approach. She must have heard him coming because she tilted her head in his direction and gave a little wave. He waved back and stopped to stand next to her, wondering what it was she was looking at.  
  
“What do you think of this colour?” she asked him. He assumed she meant the colour of the siding on her house. It was pale green.

 

“It’s the same colour as mine.” He replied.  
  
She chewed the end of her thumbnail, seeming to be deep in thought. “Kind of boring, don’t you think?”

 

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong, Ben. It’s a lovely colour… but it doesn’t really suit what I’m envisioning. You know?”   
  
No, he really didn’t know. He knew that he liked hearing her say his name, but he kept that to himself. “Are you planning on repainting the exterior right before winter?” He asked somewhat incredulously.

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Obviously not.” She tapped a rough finger against her chin. “I would go with something warmer… Like a soft yellow.”  
  
He hmmed.   
  
“But I planted daffodil bulbs in the front flower beds so that might be too much yellow. What about lavender?”

 

“You could plant lavender.”  
  
“I meant the siding.”   
  
“It’s your house, Rey. You could have hot pink trellises if you wanted.”

 

She snorted. “I love that idea, but you’d be the one having to look at them all day, _neighbour_ .”   
  
Her smile faded.   
  
“But alas, it’s not my house.” Rey sighed. “I’m just the contractor.”

 

There it was. The confirmation of what Ben assumed the first time they’d met. She was flipping the house.

 

He said nothing.  
  
She told him about her friends, the same ones she’d mentioned in passing during one of their walks, and how they had decided to try out the house market a few years ago. Poe, the one who could talk his way in and out of more trouble than anyone, negotiated the entire purchase while he, Finn (a retired infantryman) and Rose (an electrical engineer) all went in on buying it. Rey’s part of it was doing the majority of the work, free room and board during the reno, and a small percentage of the sale. The bungalow was their third such project.   
  
“So, boring neutral colours are my lot in life.” she sighed again at the end of her story. “I doubt my personality would be a valuable selling point.”   
  
The words came out before he could stop them, “Bullshit, of course it is.”

 

He didn’t miss the darkening of Rey’s already cold-pinkened cheeks. _Fuck. Creepy neighbour, Ben._ “Well, I have to get back-” he spun on his heel and was abruptly stopped in his attempt at escape by Rey’s voice.   
  
“Ben?”   
  
He hesitated for what felt like one hundred years, then turned his head to the side. Rey took a tentative step toward him, her eyebrows raised with concern, perhaps even apprehension. Her cheeks were still red. “I wanted to invite you over for dinner.”   
  
All of the air in his lungs turned to helium. He tried not to squeak when he replied with a quick “Oh?”

 

Her face relaxed a little. “Yes, Thanksgiving dinner. Rose, Finn and Poe are coming up to look at the house and for a visit. Rose needs to inspect the wiring one more time and Finn and Poe are going to help me install the new kitchen cabinets-.” She seemed to realize she was rambling and paused. “You could meet them. Finn’s pie is amazing.”  
  
That was going to be too many people, Ben’s mind supplied bitterly. “Thanks,” he swallowed. “But I’m going to my mom’s this weekend.”

 

_Enjoy that Hungryman Dinner…_   
  
If Rey was disappointed, she did a good job to not let on. She offered him a warm smile. “Alright then! See you around.”   
  
Pity invite. She’s being nice. Now go back inside . He nodded curtly, fighting back the sick feeling of having just lied to her, and tried not to rush to his front door.   
  
Once inside Ben took a deep breath and counted to ten, exhaling and counting back down to zero. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, punched in the passcode and pulled up his very sparse personal contacts list.

 

The phone rang once, twice, but before Ben could change his mind and hang up, the line picked up half-way through the third ring.  
  
“Ben?”   
  
“Hey mom… Do you have plans this weekend?”

 

* * *

  
  


**RO-RO: Hey Just saw the pics! The bathroom looks amazing!** ****  
****  
**Me: It does, doesn’t it?** ****  
**  
** **RO-RO: I love your modesty.**

 

**RO-RO: How’s your grumpy neighbour ;)** ****  
****  
**Me: Fine** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: Is he?** ****  
****  
**Me: -_-** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: Are we going to meet him this weekend?** ****  
****  
**Me: *sigh* No. He’s going to his mum’s** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: That’s too bad. Poe wanted to talk to him about the neighbourhood. I think he’s starting to draft his sales pitch.** ****  
**  
** **Me: LOL I doubt he’d get much out of him. Ben’s not exactly the chatty type.**

**RO-RO: Good thing he’s not coming for Thanksgiving then. We don’t want to scare him off.** ****  
****  
**Me: Rose…** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: Rey…** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: This is the first time I’ve seen you show an interest in something other than power tools and food.** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: Please let me have this? Let me tease you about boys. Just a little bit.** ****  
****  
**Me: …** ****  
****  
**Me: He’s just so tall** ****  
****  
**Me: And he’s got resting emo-face** ****  
****  
**Me: He’s an old man trapped in a 30 year-old’s body** ****  
****  
**RO-RO: Rey’s got a crush!** ****  
****  
**Me: omg Rose…** ****  
**  
** **Me: I do.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally wrote this as a very long one-shot but it made more sense to break it up into chapters. I might have to up the chapter count a little just for the sake of flow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben has an evening with his mother.
> 
> Rey gets some news.

 

Leia had not, in fact, made any special plans for Thanksgiving. Fortunately her housekeeper had already planned to cook a turkey and leave it for her before taking the weekend off for holidays. Mother and son feasted on leftovers and light, awkward conversation until a few glasses of wine helped to ease the tension.   
  
After dinner they settled in living room. Leia sipped another glass of red wine while Ben eyed the array of artwork along the back wall of the room. Most of it was his. Old paintings he’d done throughout his schooling. As he scanned the wall, his attention was drawn to a small frame around a section of wainscotting only a few feet above the floor. There was no canvas, no paper. The frame was attached directly to the wall itself, within it a haphazard scribble in red permanent marker. Beside it was a bronze placard reading “Ben Solo, 2.75, Indelible Ink on Cedar”.   
  
Leia smiled at him. “I’m never redecorating, I hope you know that.”   
  


“I don’t know if I’ve gotten much better in the last 27 years.”

 

She snorted and shook her head. “I know anything I say will be dismissed out of hand because I’m your mother but, speaking as an asshole with good taste, you should really go back to painting, Ben.”

 

He shot her a glare. There it was. There was the reason he was reluctant to speak to his mother for extended periods of time. He saw her shoulders tense, even as she sipped her merlot and stared back at him over her glass. She was preparing herself for an argument and normally that was exactly what this would turn into. She never said it to his face, but she thought Ben’s work as a graphic designer was below him - “like a Michelin Star chef working at a fast food restaurant”. Those were the words he had heard her say to one of her friends shortly after he’d graduated. 

 

Ben felt his temper flash and then in an instant… gone. He must have visibly relaxed because his mother’s eyes widened in surprise.   
  
“Ben?”   
  
He slumped back in his chair and reached over to where he’d placed his messenger bag when he first arrived. He dragged the black nylon satchel back over to his side by the strap, flipped the top open and pulled out a thick, black hardcover sketchbook. He passed it to her wordlessly. Leia set her glass down and took the book with the care and hesitancy of someone holding a newborn for their very first time.   
  
“Ben…” She opened the front cover of the book and drank in the images on the first page. Then she turned to the next, pouring over it with delight and eagerness. Ben watched her for several minutes as she went through his sketches. She made comments on each one, asked him about different scenes whenever she came across a particularly interesting landscape. She laughed over the still life drawings of his various kitchen appliances. “This is as close as I’m going to get to seeing your house since you moved in, isn’t it!” she chuckled.   
  
It was a nice way to spend a half hour. When Ben was young he would eagerly come home from school on the days they did art class to show his mother what he had made. Leia always praised him, urging him on to making his next piece even better. He had craved that attention like sugar - like air. He needed it. His mother had been so busy with her work that Ben was often left on his own. His parents had divorced when he was quite young. His father taking off on his own business endeavours. A birthday card and a gift every year until they got the news that Han Solo had died of a heart attack. Ben was fourteen.   
  
Ben soaked up his mother’s commentary on his sketches silently, but with just as much pleasure as he had when he was twelve. When she finished looking through the book, she carefully closed it and placed a hand over the back cover, looking up at Ben. “Oh Ben, this is lovely. I’m so happy you’re drawing on your own again.”   
  
He felt his cheeks heat. “I’ve had some spare time.” He coughed - more to fill a silence than to clear his throat.   
  
She set the sketch book aside and took up her merlot again. “Have you done any portraits? I saw a lot of trees and coffee pots in there, but no faces.”   
  
Ben grimaced. He reached into his bag and pulled out a second sketchbook - less used than the first. He passed it to her. “I’m trying to keep things separate.” He said.

 

Leia took the book and started flipping through it like she had with the first. Hands, facial features, muscle structure - mostly things Ben modelled in his wardrobe mirror. He didn’t draw any self portraits. He stared down at his socked feet while Leia went through his sketches until he heard her gasp. His eyes snapped up to see what had surprised her so suddenly.

 

It was the drawing of Rey. The first one he’d done after that confrontation in her driveway.

 

“She’s beautiful, Ben. Who is she?”   
  
Leia looked up at him expectantly and he could practically hear what she was thinking.

 

Ben, painfully shy and introverted. Her son who didn’t have many close friends growing up. The boy who went through high school and university without having a single romantic partner beyond an awkward first date or two. Who was this beautiful girl who had caught his attention?   
  
Did he lie to his mother and tell her that the model was from a stock image he’d found?   
  
No.   
  
“Just a new neighbour. She moved in a few months ago.”

 

“Just a new neighbour?”   
  
Ben didn’t like the way her one eyebrow quirked. “Yes. Her name is Rey and she’s flipping the house across the street. She’ll be done in the spring and then she’s going to move on to the next house.”

 

Leia’s expression softened. “So you have talked to her.”    
  
“Yes, mother. I’ve talked to her.”

 

“Have you asked her out yet?”   
  
“No.”   
  
And he wouldn’t ask Rey out because dating was awful and she was going to be leaving in a few months anyway.    
  
Leia’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Has she asked  _ you _ out?”   
  
Ben threw his head back and groaned, frustrated and uncomfortable. “No! God, mom-”   
  
“I don’t see why she wouldn’t. You are objectively good looking.”   
  
“Mom…”   
  
“You’ve got that tall, dark and broody artist thing going on. Girls usually  _ LOVE _ that shit.”   
  
“Mom!”   
  
“Unless she’s the Lizzy Bennet type and needs to see past that hard-shell exterior of yours before she falls madly in love with your sensitive, beautiful soul.”   
  
“Give my sketchbook back-” Ben went to grab for it, but Leia pulled it out of his reach with surprising quickness. He glared at her, his cheeks now fully red and on fire with embarrassment. A beat passed in which Ben tried his damnedest to control his breathing and hope that Leia would drop the subject.

 

“Well, since you’ve got some space in your portrait portfolio-” Leia calmly passed the book back to Ben (which he snatched back with a huff). She set her empty wineglass down and stretched out into a lounging position on her loveseat, “draw me like one of your French-presses.”

 

* * *

  
  


It took nearly the entire morning and afternoon for Rey and Finn to get the upper cabinets installed in the bungalow’s tiny kitchen ( _ “bijou” _ was the word Poe was going to use in the ad). Meanwhile Rose checked over all of the wiring, inspected the breaker box, tested all of the new plumbing and generally stayed as far away from the kitchen as she could. Past experience had taught them that when it came to group-effort jobs, it was best that Rey and Finn did the physical work (Finn following Rey’s silent instructions), Poe supervised and Rose would keep out of it so that she didn’t strangle Poe.   
  
Dinner, with the exception of one of Finn’s excellent pies, was to be comprised entirely of take-out. Poe volunteered to pick it up while the other three cleaned the kitchen of drywall and saw dust.

 

“I can’t believe how much you’ve already done!” Finn threw his arm around Rey’s shoulders and pulled her into a squeeze. They all sat on the kitchen floor, leaning up against the wall where Rey’s kitchen table would be placed once Poe came back with the food.

 

She beamed at him. “This one’s been pretty easy, compared to the last one.”

 

“Oh my god, the mold…” Rose groaned, clearly recalling the basement of their previous flip. “I seriously wanted to just burn that place down.”

 

“But the original hardwood floors!” Rey sighed, putting on her very best Poe Dameron impression. “Do you know how much people will pay for original hardwood floors?!”

 

“Longest fucking year of my life.” Rose, sitting on Finn’s other side shifted so that she could lay her head against his shoulder and let out an enormous yawn. Finn kissed her crown and idly rubbed her arm. “Who’s hair-brained idea was this anyway? This whole house flipping thing.”   
  
Rey snorted. “Your’s.”   
  
“Ugh… right.”   
  
“And then Poe ran with it.”   
  
“Poe always runs with it.”   
  
“Fortunately he’s very good at it.”

 

A moment of companionable silence passed. Rey thought that maybe Rose was falling asleep, noting how heavy her friend’s eyelids appeared to be. Rey started to get up, but Rose reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Hey, Rey? Sit down.” Rey stopped and did as she asked.

 

She felt Finn’s body tense a little at her side. She looked at him, then back to Rose. Rose sat up, still holding Rey’s wrist loosely. “What’s-”

 

“I thought you wanted to wait another few weeks?” Finn said.   
  
Rose shook her head. “We’re here now and I’d rather tell her in person.”   
  
“Tell me what?”   
  
“I’m pregnant.”

 

Of all the things Rey thought Rose was going to say, that wasn’t one of them. She stared at her friend in shock. They had discussed kids before, in late night conversations at their shared apartment when Finn was passed out and Rey was helping Rose study for her finals. Rose was adamant that she was going to wait until she was in her late thirties before she even let Finn  _ think _ about unprotected sex. She wanted to make sure they were both employed full-time, had a house and maybe a little bit of savings. Stability was everything.

 

Rose was not in her late thirties. She was barely in her mid-twenties. They still shared that little apartment and Rose was still finishing her required hours for her full electrical engineering qualifications.

 

“Holy shit.” Rey breathed.

 

Fortunately it seemed like Rose wasn’t expecting Rey to have an enthusiastically happy reaction because she didn’t look at all offended by the lack thereof. Finn, for the most part, looked sheepish and was staring at his steel-toed work boots.   
  
_ Holy shit. _ A baby. The sum of Rose and Finn in tiny human form.

 

“I’m not due until May though, so there’s still a lot of time.” Rose said quickly.

 

“Time?”

 

Finn visibly gulped but neither of her friends spoke.

 

_Oh._ _Of course_. Time for Rey to find another apartment or another roommate. Babies, tiny as they were, took up a lot of space. Finn and Rose would need to look for a new place, or they would need Rey’s room. Since the apartment was close to both Rose and Finn’s respective workplaces, it was likely going to be the latter.

 

She was going to get displaced. Again.

 

Living on the job-site during a renovation was different. For nearly three years she always had a place to go back to, and people she loved to share it with, the longest she’d ever stayed in one place.

 

But she couldn’t be angry. Not like this. It wasn’t fair to Rose and Finn.   
  
It wasn’t fair.

 

They heard a car door slam outside, effectively breaking the tense silence around them.   
  
“Poe’s back with dinner!” Finn announced, getting to his feet and helping Rose and Rey to stand.

 

Rose gave Rey’s hand a quick squeeze. “We can talk about this later, okay?” She waited for Rey to nod. “And Finn and I will do everything we can to help you.”   
  
“Yeah,” Rey took in and released a deep breath. “I’ll move the table… I left the bag of paper plates and stuff in the bathroom.”   
  
She could feel Rose watching her as she turned to get her little pedestal table from the living room. Her chest tightened.  _ Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. _   
  
“I’m sorry, Rey.”   
  


* * *

 

He hadn’t seen much of Rey in the following week. 

 

Maybe Rey wasn’t busy.

 

He went to the front door and peeked out the window to see if he could see her outside. There was no sign of her. Her pick-up truck was parked in the driveway, so she was probably home. Normally on sunny days, even cold ones like this, Rey was outdoors and doing  _ something _ .

 

_ Get a grip, Solo.  _ Ben chastised himself. Rey was a busy woman. She was renovating an entire fucking house for fuck’s sake.

 

He retreated back into his basement to find something to do.

 

He didn’t really feel like drawing. Or painting. Or reading.

 

A walk. He’d take a walk. Maybe run some errands. And he’d ask Rey if she wanted to join him. Or, maybe if she was busy, he could pick some things up from the store for her.

 

He went back upstairs and headed out across the street as soon as he finished putting on his coat and boots.

 

He went up to Rey’s door and took a deep breath before he knocked.

 

“Hold on!” he heard her say from inside.   
  
When Rey answered the door she was bundled up in a thick blanket and her nose looked raw from being blown into cheap tissues too many times. She blinked at him, tired but surprised. “Ben!” she said, her voice thick and nasally. “Uh, hi! Sorry… um…”   
  
“You’re sick.” he said.

 

She visibly winced, pulling the blanket in tighter around her shoulders. “Yeah, it’s just a little cold.”

 

_ Don’t just stand here like an idiot. Ask her if she wants anything. Offer to get her some soup. _

 

“Do you want to come in for some tea or coffee?”

 

She was smiling at him, red nose and puffy eyes and all, and Ben could only nod dumbly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely notes you've been leaving are giving me life! I'm so happy you're enjoying this!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Last Chapter

 

Rey’s offer of tea or coffee quickly morphed into Ben insisting that she show him where she kept her kettle and mugs while she sat down at the table.

 

She noticed that he’d poured her tea into her favourite mug. He couldn’t have known, but she noticed all the same.

 

Ben placed their mugs down on the little round table and sat across from Rey, his shoulders hunched and looking entirely too large for such a small kitchen. “Thank you,” her voice rasped. She lifted the hot mug to her face and let the steam waft up to her sinuses. She could faintly smell ginger. Ben’s tea was the same colour. He didn’t touch his tea though. He let his cup sit while he seemed to study his surroundings.

 

This was his first time seeing the inside of the house. They’d always met outdoors before now. The realization made Rey suddenly feel self conscious. Odd, that she never felt that way before when someone was inspecting her work. She took great pride in her craftsmanship and never let the opinions of others change her attitude.

 

Ben’s eyes were fixed on the window over the sink for a long beat. She peeked over her shoulder, curious about what could have grabbed his attention. There was a little pot of artificial flowers and a sparkly teal chiffon scarf draped across the curtain rod like a swag. And the cartoon drawing he’d given her, which Rey had found a frame for and added to her small collection of personal touches. These things stood out from the plain, neutral model home design of the kitchen; of course his eye would be drawn to them. She glanced back at Ben.

 

He was smirking.   
  
She smiled too.   
  
“Do you want a tour?” She asked, startling him out of his inspection of the window.

 

“Uh, no…” He wrapped one of his enormous hands around his mug and added quickly, “maybe when you’re feeling better.”

 

“Sure,” she replied. “I’d like that.”

 

They sipped at their tea in companionable silence, much like they spent most of their walks. It was so different from spending time with Rose, Finn or Poe who talked almost constantly. Ben, it seemed, never spoke unless it was going to be important or interesting. Like when he pointed out some small detail about a building, or told her about the historical significance of a local street name. Or, even on very rare occasions, when he told her about a particularly bizarre interaction he’d had with a client.

 

Rey was a little shocked when Ben broke the silence.

“How long have you been sick?” He asked, looking directly at her.

 

She huddled a little more deeply into her blanket and tried to look like she wasn’t about to have her heart burst out of her chest. “Two days? Maybe? I think I was starting to feel it come on the weekend. It didn’t really hit me until this morning.”   
  
He blinked away from her then, turning his attention to his hands. “Do you- are your friends-”

 

Are her friends what? “Oh! No. They’ve got work and stuff. I wouldn’t want them worrying about me for something like this. I can look after myself.”

 

“Yeah…” she saw his jaw tense. “Yeah, I know.”

 

Her phone pinged, lying face-up on the table by Rey’s elbow. The screen lit up with a notification from Rose. She slipped a hand out of her quilted cocoon and swiped up on the screen to read the full message, quickly saying sorry to Ben for checking her phone during his visit. He shook his head dismissively and drank his tea while she tapped out a reply. She turned her phone over and bundled up again after hitting SEND.   
  
“Everything okay?” Ben asked.   
  
“Hm?”   
  
“You’ve got a look on your face.”   
  
“Oh-” She flashed him a quick smile. “No, just my friend. She’s sending me listings for new apartments back home.”   
  
“You’re moving?”   
  
“Well yeah,” she took another sip of her tea. “You knew that.”   
  
“But you have an apartment, don’t you?” There was that hard stare of his again. “With Rose and Finn?”   
  
He remembered their names. Rey tried not to feel too thrilled at the thought that Ben had been paying close enough attention to her when she nattered away at him casually. “I do,” she spoke slowly, trying to figure out how she could say this without sounding bothered or upset about her new circumstances. “But it’s time… It’s time I find my own place, y’know?”

 

She had a feeling that he could read her mind and wasn’t going to accept that answer as the whole truth.

 

“They’re having a baby.” She added. “And it makes more sense for me to move out.” She swallowed down a lump in her throat. It hurt. “They have actual jobs. I can do what I do pretty much anywhere. Besides,” she gave a little shrug, “I’m used to it.”

 

“No.”

 

Rey couldn’t help it; she snorted, but it sounded like the honk of an irate goose between her swollen throat and sinus congestion. “What?”    
  
His features softened but his gaze remained hard as he looked up at her again. “They’re taking advantage of you.”

 

Ben only seemed to speak when it was important.

 

“What are you talking about, Ben?” She demanded, anger suddenly swelling up within her.

 

“You’re letting them-” His jaw clenched again, like he was trying to crush the words he wanted to say before they could escape his mouth. She didn’t urge him to speak. She only stared at him expectantly. “You’re sick.” He said in his low voice. “You’re sick and you’re here alone, doing all of this work for them, and they’re too busy to check in with you.”

 

It wasn’t a question.

 

It also wasn’t entirely inaccurate. She did talk to her friends often, sometimes every few days, but it was hardly personal stuff.  **_How is the build? Hey did you see that laminate flooring is on sale?_ ** ****__  
**_  
_ ** ****_This bachelor apartment looks promising._

 

He continued. “And now you need to worry about moving.”   
  
“I’ve got months to figure it out, Ben.” She said flatly. “It’s not like Rose is going into labour tomorrow.”

 

He looked angry, stricken. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like how she felt like she had to defend her friends to him when she herself was upset about her circumstances. She didn’t like that he was saying out loud what she was sick over thinking to herself.

 

Rey’s stomach twisted in knots as her mind tried to rationalize everything she was feeling. Ben just sat there looking indignant.

 

He was wrong.   
  
“You don’t know them.”

 

He looked stunned. “I don’t need to know them to know that they’re taking you for granted-”   
  
“They don’t know I’m sick because I haven’t told them!” She shouted over him, which triggered a coughing fit. She hunched over and tried to catch her breath. It only took a moment but when she was able to straighten herself out again, Ben was watching her with worry - his face had gone pale. “You don’t know them, Ben.” Her voice was croaky and strained. “They’re good people. If you’d actually met them you would know that.”   
  
He pressed his lips together.

 

At least he was listening.   
  
“I’ve known them for years.” She went on. She told him about Finn being her first real friend and about how she and Rose were the only girls on their high school robotics team. She told him about Poe helping her find work when she was between jobs and how, when she was struggling to save up money in order to start college, Finn and Rose asked her move in with them to split the cost of living. “So you can’t tell me that they don’t care, because  _ you don’t know them _ .”

 

Her temper was up and the words came out before she could think them through. “Just like I can’t claim to know why you’re such a presumptuous ass sometimes.”

 

Guilt washed over her when Ben stood up from the table but she was too angry to retract. He remained silent while he took up his unfinished tea and carried it to the sink.   
  
“I should go.” He said quietly while his back was to her.   
  
“Don’t.”   
  


Ben turned his head and glared at her in confusion. “What do you want me to do? I’ve upset you. You must want me to leave you alone.”

 

Yes, she was angry. Yes, he was being an ass. But she didn’t want him to leave. She was being irrational, but she was sick and perhaps feeling a little selfish.

 

“I want soup.” She finally said after taking a few centering breaths.

 

“Soup.”   
  
“And I want to watch a movie.”

 

He let out a long breath through his nose but replied “okay,” and started heading back toward the front door.

 

“Wait! Ben!” She tried to get up to go after him but nearly smothered herself in her blanket. “I said you didn’t have to leave.”

 

He threw her a little smirk over his shoulder after slipping his enormous feet back into his boots. “I’m just going to grab a few things. I’ll be right back.”

* * *

 

  
Rey’s body was warm and comfortable. Her stomach was full of delicious soup and she was stretched out on her thrift-store sofa with her legs propped up on Ben’s lap.    
  
She was starting to doze off, the sound of Ben’s pencil scratching faintly against his sketchpad lulling her.   
  
“I’m sorry.” He said in a low voice,  _ scritch scritch _ , “about earlier. I shouldn’t have said those things about your friends.”

 

She responded with a soft “hm,” drifting a little further toward sleep. The cough medicine she’d taken was clearly more fast-acting than she’d realized.   
  
“I’m not good with people.”   
  
“I figured that out in the first five minutes of meeting you.”

 

He gently nudged her foot with his elbow, making her giggle.

 

A minute, perhaps ten, passed in silence. Rey wasn’t ready let go just yet, wanting to savor the moment, Ben’s presence, the comfort and companionship that he brought with him. She was struggling.

 

“You’re different.” He said. “Most of the time it feels like talking to people sucks the life out of me. It doesn’t happen with you.”

 

Ben’s voice was so sweet and sunk deep into her bones.   
  
“I did really well in my program at university and got an internship right out of school at a major gallery. It was really good in the beginning. I was getting paid well. The gallery owner was impressed with my portfolio. He started talking about making me a featured artist.

 

“I submitted my work. Things I’d been working on for years. Some of them really personal pieces.” He paused. Rey wondered if he was telling her all of this because of her outburst earlier. Or he thought she’d fallen asleep. “A month later I saw a display at one of those pre-teen boutiques at the mall. One of my paintings was printed on a tee-shirt. Turned out there was a clause in my internship agreement that the gallery had buried deep in the fine print. Any work I submitted during my term was the property of the gallery and would be used to their discretion, including and not limited to the sale of any images for mass production.”   
  
He didn’t sound angry. He sounded defeated. Rey wanted so badly to commiserate but could only manage and faint groan. She was losing this fight.

 

“Legally there wasn’t anything I could do. I quit. I couldn’t sell those pieces anymore. That was when I started doing freelance graphic design. I stopped painting. I stopped trying to network with other artists or submit anything to any galleries.

 

“My mother owns the house I live in. I’m just renting it from her.”

 

Rey felt him shift beneath her, then her legs getting lifted up and set back down slowly and gently. Her eyelids were like lead weights, she couldn’t see what he was doing but she could fairly sense his movements around the living room. He gathered up her soup dishes and turned off her laptop.

 

Ben’s socked feet shuffled away and he returned a moment later, just as Rey was feeling her consciousness finally slip away. A warm hand brushed her forehead - first the palm and then the backs of his knuckles trailed down her temple and cheek.

 

“You deserve better, Rey. I -” The warmth of his hand left her face. “I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

  
  


Ben stepped through his front door and locked it behind him. His body slumped sideways, his shoulder hitting the foyer wall hard as he moaned in frustration.

 

He was in love with Rey. He’d almost told her while she was asleep. Like a coward. 

 

What could he possibly offer her? He was a sporadically employed freelance artist. His landlord was his mother. His idea of fun was mining through wikipedia.     
  


Rey was bright and cheerful and utterly charming. He had the social graces of a wet paper bag. Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled, closing his eyes. 

 

She would be far better off with someone else.   
  
But he wouldn’t.

* * *

  
  


Rey sat at her kitchen table for a long time and contemplated the night before as she stared down at the slip of paper Ben had left behind. It was another drawing but it was nothing like the caricature he’d done before, that now sat in pride of place at her kitchen window. This was a full-blown portrait. Of her. With careful detail and soft shading using a mixture of smudging and cross-hatched lines (that much she remembered from her one art class in secondary school).

 

Portrait-Rey was smiling warmly and surrounded by enormous daffodil blooms. He’d drawn her hair down in soft, curving tendrils, cascading out from beneath her favourite knitted beanie. She wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually seen her with her hair down before, but perhaps during one of their walks she might have taken it out of her usual ponytail. 

 

The girl in the drawing was radiant.

 

Nothing at all like the haggard swamp beast Rey met in her bathroom mirror earlier that morning.   
  
Ben had carefully mapped out the darkest of the freckles that covered her cheeks and nose. Rey felt her own face flush with heat upon noticing his attention to detail, right down to the double piercing in her earlobe, though she hardly ever wore earrings anymore.   
  
When did Ben pay so much attention to her ears?

 

Rey set the drawing down and lifted up her mug of coffee. That was another thing she’d found upon waking up that morning; Ben had done the dishes and set up her coffee maker for her, like he was telling her to take it easy for today and rest.

 

Easy was the farthest thing to what Rey was feeling at this point. Part of her was screaming that Ben was trying to tell her something else.   
  
“Don’t read into it, you ninny.” She mumbled into her mug.   
  
It didn’t help.   
  
“Augh!” she slumped forward, letting her head land into her folded arms on the table. “You’re a grown-ass woman, Rey! Just ask him out. Is that so damn hard?” She sat up, turning her gaze to the white stucco ceiling. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? He could turn you down. Or you could get struck by lightning and hit by a bus full of middle-aged German tourists.”

 

She winced. She was being ridiculous.

 

Maybe Rose would have some insight.

 

Rey fetched her phone from the kitchen counter, where she’d left it to charge, and flicked it on. She pulled up her messenger app and found her conversation thread with Rose. The little dot next to her best friend’s name was green, indicating that she was probably online.  
  
**Me: Rose**  
  
The response was almost immediate. Either Rose was home sick as well or she was checking her messages while on the clock.  
  
**Ro-Ro: Hey! What’s up?** **  
****  
****Me: Are you at work?** **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: Yes but it’s Friday.** **  
****  
****Now you.** **  
****  
****Me: Me what?** **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: What’s. Up.** **  
****  
** Rey snapped a picture of the drawing and sent it into the thread. **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: OMG! That’s gorgeous! Did you go to a show or something?** **  
****  
****Me: No** **  
****  
****Ben did it** **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: Grumpy Neighbour Who Doesn’t Like Anybody Ben?** **  
****  
****He’s good** **  
****  
****I really like the daffodils. You look very Art Nouveau.** **  
****  
****When did he do that?** **  
****  
****Me: Last night** **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: !!!**

 

 **;D~** **  
****  
****Me: Don’t be gross. I’ve been sick.** **  
****  
****He just came over to check on me.** **  
****  
****Nothing happened.** **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: You didn’t tell me you were sick!** **  
****  
** Rey smiled to herself. **  
****  
****Me: It’s just a cold. I’m already feeling better.**

 

Rose started typing out a message and deleted it twice before she finally responded a few minutes later.  
  
**Ro-Ro: Did you tell me he’s a graphic artist?** **  
****  
****Me: Yeah. He does a lot of commercial designs and logos.** **  
****  
****Why?** **  
****  
****Ro-Ro: Graphic artists need to know a lot about symbolism** **  
****  
****Like, you know the Amazon logo?** **  
****  
****You said the arrow looked like a smiley face** **  
****  
****But what it’s really doing is pointing from the A to the Z** **  
****  
****And the Nike swoosh is just a wing turned on its back.** **  
****  
****Because Nike was the Greek goddess of victory.** **  
****  
****And she had wings.** **  
****  
****Me: Where are you going with this?**  
  
Rose sent her a link. Tapping on it opened up a webpage titled “The Victorian Language of Flowers”. Rey was about to start scrolling through it when another message notification popped up on her phone.  
  
**Ro-Ro: You should read it.** **  
****  
****And my supervisor is coming around.** **  
****  
** **TTYL**

 

Rey responded with a thumbs-up emoji then dismissed the message.   
  
The list of flowers was organized alphabetically so it didn’t take long for Rey to find the link to the page on daffodils and what they meant. She hesitated for a second, her finger hovering just above her phone screen.

 

Did this really matter? Maybe he’d drawn daffodils because she’d told him about the bulbs in the front flower beds, and he assumed that they were her favourite. They weren’t, of course. She prefered gerbera daisies. No, Rose must’ve been reaching with this one. Ben didn’t come off as the kind of guy who knew about secret flower messages.

 

But he also didn’t come off as the kind of guy who collected local history anecdotes and smiled whenever his obnoxious neighbour invited herself out on his walks.   
  
If anything Ben was very deliberate and forthcoming, even if he was painfully introverted.

 

“It’s just a website,” she huffed. “Rose probably saw a documentary or a period drama or something and now she’s getting excited over nothing.”   
  
Rey’s fingertip brushed the blue text next to the image of a bright yellow field and the next page loaded in.

 

“ **Daffodil** symbolizes  _ regard _ and  _ chivalry _ . It is indicative of  _ rebirth, new beginnings and eternal life _ . It also symbolizes unrequited love. A single daffodil foretells a misfortune while a bunch of daffodils indicate  _ joy and happiness _ .”   
  
She read through the little missive no less than five times, her eyes drawn back each time to the middle of the passage.   
  
“ **Unrequited love.”**   


* * *

 

Ben was in his studio when he heard banging on his front door. There were five quick raps followed by a long pause. He tried to remember if he’d ordered anything online recently. Or maybe it was something from Leia. She sometimes sent him things.

 

He knew that by the time he got back upstairs and to the door the courier would be long gone and would leave the package or a pick-up slip for him. Ben went back to his computer screen and started sketching out on the cintiq again when five more loud bangs sounded from upstairs.   
  
“Damn it, what is it now…”   
  
He hauled himself out of his drafting chair and lumbered up the stairs. He reached the door just as the banging resumed for a third round.

 

Ben pulled the door open.

 

It was Rey.

 

One of her hands was raised in a fist, mid-knock. The other was clutching what looked very much like a page torn out of a sketchbook. She was also not wearing a coat or gloves, just her pajama pants, a thick sweater and her tattered work boots (untied).

 

She stared up at him with wide eyes. It only took a second to process her pink cheeks and red nose and lack of socks before Ben took her by the arm and pulled her into foyer. “Geeze, Rey!” He pushed the front door closed again and rounded on her. “What are you doing?!”

 

Without thinking he reached up to check her forehead for signs of a fever but her small, chilled hand caught his wrist and she pulled it away, not once breaking her gaze. Her other hand, the one holding the page, lifted up to his face and showed him the drawing he’d left on her kitchen table.

 

Ben went numb.

 

He’d gone too far.   
  
“Rey I’m-”   
  
“Do you know about flowers?” She interrupted him.

He swallowed down hard. He could be sarcastic, say that he might have heard of flowers once, but didn’t get what the big deal was. But this wasn’t the time. This was very much not the time. He knew some floriography. He’d done a set of promotional posters for a flower shop once. It was an interesting concept to study.   
  
She lowered the drawing. “I looked it up.” She said. “I looked up daffodils.”   
  
She knew. He couldn’t handle the way she was looking at him. He couldn’t read her expression. She might be angry. She was probably angry.   
  
He clenched his fists and stuffed them into the pockets of his track pants. “Look, Rey I’m really sorry. You don’t have to-”   
  
“I want this.” She said firmly, thrusting the drawing at him again.

 

Ben gaped at her. “The sketch? You can keep the sketch-”   
  
“Not just the sketch!” Her voice actually squeaked. She took a deep breath through her mouth as her sinuses still seemed to be congested. She released the breath with a shudder, like she was getting ready to dive into a frozen lake. “I want this.” She said again, softer this time.

 

Ben couldn’t move.

 

“I want to go for walks after working all day. I want quiet evenings together and watching bad movies. I want someone who looks at me when I’m sick and disgusting and sees me like the girl in the sketch. I want to be the girl in the sketch.”   
  
“You are,” he whispered back. He couldn’t say more even though he wanted to. He felt like his voice was broken. He couldn’t articulate how much he felt. He could use up all of the words in the world and he could never tell her enough.   
  
She took a tentative step toward him. “Ben...” Another small step. Any closer and she would be on him. Ben was already backed up to the wall. “Do you mean it? The daffodils?”   
  
He nodded, a small movement. A twitch really. But it felt like his entire world was shifting.

Rey’s cold fingers brushed his forearm then, coaxing his hand from his pocket. He complied, and she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it. “You’re wrong,” she said smiling, her voice full of warmth. “About the unrequited part.”

 

Ben finally met her eyes. “Rey, no. You shouldn’t… I’m not-”   
  
“Shut up Ben. I don’t care that you’re a hermit with terrible social skills. And I don’t care that you work freelance and rent from your mother.”   
  
He was overcome now with horror. “You- I thought you-”   
  
“No, I was awake when you said those things. Barely.” She pulled his hand up and pressed it to her chest. Her sweater was soft and fuzzy, much like the inside of Ben’s head. “So what? I never went to college. I might be homeless in a few months. I’m barely getting by and feel like I could be- I should be better than I am. I get it. I  _ often _ feel like I’m inadequate.”

 

Ben hated that she felt that way about herself, despite her describing his exact feelings about his own life. He’d been utterly given to these self-imposed high expectations, coupled with the praise and adulation of a mother that he hardly got to see. And then by a man he thought he could trust. Ultimately Ben knew that he had cracked and crumbled and allowed himself to succumb to this stagnancy of an existence.

 

His fingers curled tight around her hand. The skin was rough and calloused from all of her manual labour. How could she feel like she wasn’t enough, when she poured herself entirely into everything she did? Ben was the one who only put in as much effort as was necessary.

  
“You’re  _ not _ inadequate.” His voice rasped around a painful lump forming in his throat.   
  
Her eyes glistened as she stared up at him. “Neither are you,” she replied. “If I wasn’t sick I’d kiss you.”   
  
He kissed her anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reveal is upon us! I'm so happy you've enjoyed the story. This is everything I wrote for the anthology, however there IS an epilogue on the way (might not get posted until after Tuesday =.=)
> 
> FLUFF GALORE! Happy New Year!


End file.
